Post #88

New Year; new website. You can find me on WordPress from now on! WordPress is apparently the place to be if you're a blogger, so... you can find me here. Keep reading!

Book Worms

I love books. I couldn't live without books. If there was one thing in my life that I knew wouldn't change when I had a baby, it was my reading habits. Sure, for a while there I couldn't read as much, but I think I would have gotten a lot more sleep when Walt was a newborn if I hadn't read (or been OCD about cleaning the house). I think my love of books is why I majored in history - certainly wasn't the job opportunities!

One of many things I love about my baby boy is that when I read to him, he sits in my lap, stares at the pages, and when I read the words and look at him, he smiles and giggles back at me. I swear he has already inherited my love of reading (Dave is a reader as well). And it's not just the words. It's the actual pages, something you can seriously dig into, a world you can literally hold in your hand. The feel of the book changes the reading experience.

In my house, my two favorite things to look at are my pictures and my library. 

This year I have read 28 books (23 novels and 5 non-fiction). I am currently re-reading Doomsday Book for a book club and Fall of Giants (a Ken Follett novel) is sitting on my nightstand started but unfinished. I started writing down the books I read in the middle of 2005. I also save my favorite quotes from each book in a file on my computer. On my past two Christmas cards (my only two Christmas cards!) I included a favorites list so those near and dear can know where Dave's and my book life has taken us. I keep trying to start a book club with friends, and I think 2013 is the year to accomplish that.

I hope the New Year brings us all many glad tidings of joy.

“‘Dear God,’ she prayed, ‘let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry…have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere – be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost’” (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, 421). 

Christmas Presence

Christmas is a time filled with such good feelings that I'm always a little sad when it's over. It won't be back for another year!

I didn't watch most of my favorite Christmas movies this year before Christmas. Therefore I've been cramming them in the past few days. The other night I put on The Family Man and left the den for a minute to get some work done on my computer. When I came back in, Dave said, "You're really funny putting on your Christmas movies and then leaving the room. Last night in bed you put on Miracle on 34th Street and promptly fell asleep. When I finally turned off the movie about an hour later, you woke up and said, 'I'm so excited.'"

Dave: What about?
Me: What? What did I say?
Dave: You said you were excited. What are you excited about?
Me: January 7th
Dave: What? January 7th? Why are you excited about January 7th?
Me: Downton Abbey returns
Dave: You are funny
Me: I think I should go back to sleep

A friend of my mother's gave us this beautiful, homemade raspberry jam (yum!) and a plant for Christmas. Now, I normally kill plants. Or at least I did until Dave showed me how to properly plant them outside so they'll live. But this one is an indoor plant. It needs warmth, sunlight, and just the right amount of water. A recipe for disaster. Well, this plant must have come from the Little Shop of Horrors. Despite my lack of watering skills (I've killed a cactus before) this thing has exploded in the last week or so. I think I can see it growing before my very eyes. There was no flower bud when we got it, now there is one 2 feet tall that bends in whatever direction the sunlight is, then at night straightens up again. I'm pretty sure in a couple days we'll hear a small "Feed me!" and the cat will be missing.

Happy Boxing Day

I sure loved giving out our presents this year! And Santa was good to us too!

Walt's first Christmas: couldn't even stay awake long enough to open all his gifts!

 

One happy family. 

If a party falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it...

It is a crazy foggy night in Atlanta this Christmas Eve. Difficult to drive around, and after some holiday egg nog you better watch out. It's kinda awesome though driving by the lit up houses... you can't see anything and then boom all of a sudden there are Christmas decorations! Some more tasteful than others of course.

The Christmas Eve candlelit service at Morningside Presbyterian was gorgeous as usual. Moving, beautiful, well put together, and it really got me into the spirit of the holiday. It truly is a day about Jesus being born, and what he was about to do to the world, the peace he would inspire in everyone, rather than gifts and gifts and gifts... I guess they symbolize the gift that was given to us when Jesus came to be, but that might be stretching it. A prophecy, a birth... and after having given birth myself it makes it that much more meaningful. I can imagine Mary, instead of in a hospital, in a cold barn laboring...

It is chaos not only on the streets but in stores this past week. I go to do some regular shopping at Kroger or Target and wow what is everyone else in the neighborhood, and several adjoining ones, doing there at the same time as me? I ran out of light brown sugar making my pecan pie today and I run to the store for some last minute items and I see People Magazine featuring the 26 faces of Newtown and then I'm holding back tears in the checkout line on Christmas Eve, and... we aren't just isolated humanoid collections of atoms. We are so much more than that, and no one man will make or break us. I think even Jesus would agree with that.

Merry Christmas. Share some joy and love in this beautiful and fragile world. You never know how many chances you'll get.

Mama vs. The Laundry

There must be some laundry demon living in my washing machine. Or the dryer. Maybe he likes it hot; I've heard some do. In all my favorite shirts I get tiny holes on the bottom of the front. I never understood why this was. Once I asked my grandmother and she suggested that it is because I lean against the counter. I considered that to be an intuitive proposal. I have yet to come up with an experiment to test her theory, but I do like leaning against counters. However, I want to and will continue to blame the laundry demon. He's the one who also steals one out of a pair of socks. Or makes me forget to take my cute wool sweaters out of the load to lay them flat to dry. I even think he makes the baby throw up on all our clothes so our newly cleaned things are constantly dirty. His worst trick is when I take the laundry all warm and dry out of the dryer and then he makes it cold and damp when I'm ready to fold everything.

Can't blame him for all the cat hair on everything though.

Merry Christmas Eve Eve! Let the festivities begin!

Apocalypse Revisited

The wind whips through the bare winter trees. The morning light and shadows play through the window shades. The wooden Christmas wreath bangs against the our living room window. The baby smiles.

"Is today the apocalypse? But it doesn't feel like the apocalypse." - David

Most of us don't believe the world will end in a blaze of glory (at least not today), but maybe these theories get popular because we're a doomsday type of people. It's not hard to believe given the mayhem we see in the news every day. For the people who die, is it not an apocalypse of one, at least?

Reflections

My grandma is not doing well physically, mentally, or spiritually. She is not a spiritual woman, but I am talking about her spirit. Since her first stroke last year, and then after the one she had a few weeks ago, she has seemed depressed. Not surprising for someone who is 89 and in ailing health, but also hard to watch. Maybe if she was a spiritual woman this time in her life would be easier for her. Maybe all the difficult times in all our lives would be easier if we relied more on our spiritual communities to see us through the mire. If we turned to a peaceful and loving spirit (whether it be Jesus, Buddha, etc.) to guide us. However, I don't like seeing this in my grandma for several reasons. First, it is painful to watch someone you love and like be hurting. I don't want her to die, and I don't want to see her cry when I ask her how she is doing. Second, it is difficult to watch someone who has lived a long and fruitful life, surrounded by family who loves her, to be so upset about the inevitable. This is true especially in light of the events on Friday. Twenty beautiful children shot to death before they had a chance to do so very many things in life. Parents who dropped their kids off at school who didn't live to eat lunch that day. No less sad are the six young women, women with families, women about to retire, who had so much ahead of them in their lives too. It's enough to make me walk around afraid of death, afraid of strangers, afraid of the every day unknowns that can strike us any time. Random acts of violence are the counterparts to random acts of kindness. And it seems like I hear so much more often about violence. It is not just the murderous rampages of a few individuals, but the daily violent minutia that gets to me too. The little unkindnesses we show each other all the time. The yelling, the hate, the abuse, the violence, the discrimination, the judgement... etc, etc, etc, all the vices and sin Pandora let out of her box. It makes me think, which is worse? One person killing 27 people, or 27 people each killing someone? For goodness sakes, we don't have to want to kill someone to have it happen. We can get in our cars while drinking or texting and next thing you know, an accident happens. People are much more likely to die in an accident than by homicide, but we don't stop driving our cars or taking the risks that seem to make life more fun, and this is if we even all assume that death is the worst possible outcome. And then if you are being truly honest, it's not accidents or violence that really kills people, it's what we do to ourselves: drinking, smoking, eating, not exercising... We are our own worst enemy, as the saying goes. And we certainly don't fear food or sitting inside on the couch. Well, most of us don't. But in society, what you often see come to the surface are the things that cause us fear. Because fear is very powerful. Are fear and pleasure the yin and yang that dominate our lives - and thus our politics? 

It is the hope and amazement I feel when I see my child smile or do something new that makes my world a better place. I might be a new parent, but I feel like I've known and loved my son my entire life. And I think that is what hurts us all so much about Sandy Hook. That man tried to kill our hope and amazement in the world. He took what was precious and destroyed it. It didn't just destroy those families but a little piece (and peace) in all of us, because we all understand the innocence, hope, imagination, and possibilities that childhood represents. And when something that disgusting happens, we just can't believe it. Adults may fight, you can be in the wrong place at the wrong time, someone may do someone else wrong, but children? Really? Why would someone be so cruel?

The only thing left for us to do is to help, to forgive, to keep believing we can all change the world for the better, and to keep it moving. No one is immune from tragedy. But what is different in all of us is what we do in the face of tragedy. We can stay the same, we can lament and vicariously judge the evil in the world, or we can take one more giant step in the evolution of ourselves.

Christmas Christmas Everywhere

We mailed out our Christmas cards yesterday. I love mailing out cards. A) because it's snail mail, which everyone loves to get if it's not a bill or some ad (why do people still spend money on that) and 2) because I get to unleash my inner creative in a mass mailing to all friends and family. Every major event is worthy of being noted in this way. And I only get better at it. In fact, people tell me that I could make money with my card designs. The funny thing is, I've had a creative design business for over a year, and I've only gotten a few takers! Companies like Shutterfly have me beat with ease of use, etc. But, I'm cheaper. And a small, local business. I do like Shutterfly though. Great product. Maybe next year I'll send out some flyer reminding people of my awesomeness and they'll flock to my website and beg me to design their personalized Christmas card/birth announcement/wedding thank yous... You name it, I'm interested in spending time on it.

Luckily, even though I'm a full time mama, my good friend Leslie has me working for her too. Strangely enough I like working on trucking compliance. You'd think it might be boring, but there is never-ending work for it. And I like knowing that I'm working in the same field as my husband (he does commercial transportation insurance... so he works with the truckers too but in a very different context. An unfortunate business; people just believe that if they've hit a truck they've won the lottery).

Anyway, I love all things Christmas. The bright lights, the red and green decorations, the present giving (this year I put a lot of thought into the few gifts I got people), the food, the family time, the cold weather (finally!). And of course, shooing away the cat from the tree unless she looks like this:

Christmas Kitty

Irrational 3am Thoughts

Like maybe there will be a day again where I will sleep longer than 4 hours straight.

I had 28 years of unappreciated, glorious sleep.

And to think, this is only the beginning of my childbearing years.

Good thing my boy is so cute!

Ask & Ye Shall Receive

Dave and I were decorating the Christmas tree last night, and I was talking to him about getting Walter a baby's first Christmas ornament. I am a very sentimental person, especially with personalized items, mementos, photographs and such. I said we had three options: we could make one, we could buy one, or we could wait and see if someone gives us one. I am a very crafty person, so the idea of making one was appealing. We made clay foot and hand prints already (no, it was not frustrating trying to get a 3 1/2 month old to cooperate with us, the wet clay, and the vision I had), but they were way too heavy to hang on a Douglas Fir branch. As I was looking at my own ornaments I made as a child, I was very excited to make such things with Walter.

It was a beautiful night, we had wrapped up with the house decorations, and Dave went outside to enjoy the stillness. He brought back inside a package addressed to Master Walter Warford. It was small. Dave asked me if I thought it might contain the very object I had been asking for. Upon opening it, it was a very lovely silver ornament expressing the very memory I wanted to keep! How thoughtful of the universe to put that idea in a generous friend's head! And to get it on the night we were decorating the tree... well, that's just what the Christmas spirit is all about.

Detouring today on the way home from picking up our Christmas cards, I saw we have a very small, very religious university right here in our neighborhood. I told Walter that he could go to elementary, high school, and college all within walking distance of our house. I think he was grateful that he was asleep and didn't hear my suggestion.

My two handsome men

I'd like a ham sandwich please

This kid already knows when the camera is pointed at him. If it's video he stops immediately whatever cute thing he was doing and just stares straight into the lens. If it's a camera, well, he still just stares right at it. And it eats him up! What is it about kids and technology these days? I'm convinced he's going to be building his first computer before he's five. And do we stop them? Do we inhibit this new evolution of mankind? Is it evolution or just addiction? What is a computer anyway? Or the internet? It wasn't so long ago we existed without these things. And for a very long time too. Now we can't imagine going a day without our smart phones...

Dust Wars

Katherine vs. the dust. I like to think, when I've just cleaned something, that it will stay clean for a long time. And somehow it is disappointing each time. I have the same illusions when I fill up my gas tank or when I've just bagged a lawn's worth of leaves. It seems like I've done such a good job that it'll be that way for good. But oh, the dust. It's not seasonal. It's not dependent on how often I drive. It's forever. And it always wins.

Never-ending battles seem to be my forte lately. Or maybe ironic check payments. Example one: this year I decide to be unnervingly prompt with Frances' rabies tax (um, we pay to get them vaccinated and then have to pay the government for it as well? I've actually gotten a call before saying I'd have law enforcement after me if I didn't pay my cat tax), and, well, he dies that night. As if my cat passing away wasn't hard enough, I'm out an extra ten bucks (let alone the fact that he had an extra expensive well visit two days earlier and they said he looked just great).

And then there's Walt's birth certificate. They got my birth date wrong. On the back it gives instructions on how to make corrections. This includes getting a notary public to witness Dave's and my signatures as well as sending original documents stating my birth date. Since I don't feel particularly good about sending in my drivers license or passport, I thought I would get my birth certificate from my mother. As anyone with a newborn knows, this rigamaroll is the last thing on my to-do list and it takes me a while to accomplish it. However, I decide to call in last minute and ask if I really need to send in my birth certificate or if a copy will do. The guy has the audacity to tell me that since I waited an extra couple of weeks instead of sending it right back in with the typo that they'll have to charge me extra to fix the problem. As in more than it took to get the two copies in the first place. I sent the stuff in without any money attached and a nice post-it note saying I'd like my baby's birth certificate fixed.

If you were worried that was it, you don't have to be.

My OB/Gyn, two-thirds of the way through my pregnancy, decided to start sending my lab work to an out-of-network provider. Even after I told them not to. So I've been calling the OB, the lab, and my insurance to work all this out. A lot. Round and round we go, who will help Katherine with this problem? Finally I talk to a sane person at the insurance company. But they still need to do some investigation. After a couple more weeks of this, some rejections and more investigation pending, I decide to send in the d*mn check anyway today, thinking if this, by some miracle, gets worked out, they can reimburse me. Well, of course the insurance company calls this afternoon and tells me that they've readjusted some claims and I owe less money. I run to the mailbox and what do you know, this is the one day the mailman came early.

Ten years already?

I keep having zombie apocalypse dreams. Last night included a ghost train that ran through our safety house. I was also worried about the dessert supply (we had to buy our own goods from the store still). As if running from the zombies wasn't exhausting enough.

Friday was my ten year Marist reunion. Dave was worried he wouldn't know anyone there except me and Jason, but I kept telling him he would know the same people I did. I enjoyed catching up with my friends, but I'm not sure I talked to anyone that I didn't talk to in high school. If I did it was awkward and short. What do you say, "Hello. We never talked when given a six-year chance, why don't we correct that in the next three hours? Let me buy you a glass of wine. Oh yes, that's right, it's open bar." Though I did convince one guy that he shouldn't use the title "dictator" when he attempted to take over the world. I told him I'd help him.

Next time I'm planning the reunion. I see it including some media, games, kids, better food, and tables and chairs. I'm tired of the popular kids telling us how things are going to go. For goodness sakes it's been ten years already.

Walt's First Thanksgiving

He slept ten hours straight last night. Then, when he ate for an hour and was still wide awake (even after falling asleep while nursing), and I put him in his bed anyway (cause unless something is wrong I only stay up with him for an hour during the night), he was quiet and put himself back to sleep for two more hours without making a peep!

I'm pretty sure that was Walt's way of saying: "I'm thankful for you, mommy. I love you."

Politeness is a Virtue

One of my favorite things about Frances was that before he would come inside the house, he would always pause to clean his claws on the welcome mat.

Last night at 3:30am instead of either eating or sleeping, the only two things I would find acceptable at that hour, Walter was staring at me and smiling and sticking out his tongue. Cute; the boy knows how to work his audience!

I've forgotten how much longer it takes my bath towel to dry in the cold winter rather than the hot summer. Sad.

Another thing I will greatly miss is that Frances would follow us down the street meowing at us to come back when Dave and I would go for a walk.

Sunday Evening Thoughts

Today at Costco this big lady rushes past me, Dave and baby shouting "Hey Walter!" and Dave and I look at each other confused and surprised until we see the sample guy with the name tag "Walter" peddling his goods next to us.

The weekend has gone wonderfully despite the death in our little family. That and my family has to convince me that overcooked pork and undercooked vegetables suffices as a decent meal. It never works out for me when I just throw things into a casserole dish and put it in the oven hoping it'll all come together perfectly. Or the crockpot. I have to have a decent recipe to make that device work.

It is inevitable that when I put on a coat or a pair of pants that hasn't been washed in awhile that I will find at least one tissue in one pocket... does this happen to anyone else? I'd like to blame this on winter-time but David would disagree. I blame instead the nose job I had as a 16 year old which left my nose health in shambles ever since.

My father in law likes reading my blog because he finds the in-person Katherine to be a little different (or a little less revealing) than blogger Katherine. I think this is always true when I write. I have some friends I've been completely different with via email and it is so much easier to write certain things down than to have to live them face-to-face. This is compounded by the internet being a haven for publicly shared private information. Perceived anonymity that is completely false.

I'm glad I'm not pregnant anymore so I can enjoy a glass of wine or two. That, a puzzle, a fire, and a movie with David is my idea of a good date night. Yes, we were already totally boring and ready to have children before we did.

Efficiency Mode

A term coined by David to express one's state of mind when things are getting accomplished, usually at a speedy pace. It is easy to recognize in one's partner when they travel from chore to chore and you can't even ask how you can help cause then you'd be getting in the way.

I was going to write a blog about this week, how I am getting in the groove and how Walt lets me get things done during the day now. During his first nap in the morning I get ready for the day, eat breakfast, empty the dishwasher and make the bed. His afternoon nap, usually longer, provides me time to get one large chore done (or two medium ones). This can be making dinner (or banana pudding like on Wednesday) or an eventful household chore like cleaning the whole house or blowing and bagging leaves in the yard (why do we have so many oak trees on our small piece of property? I'm hoping the one large one won't drop its leaves this year or possibly they'll just disintegrate before they hit the ground).

But instead I will write about Friday evening.

David and I were getting Walt ready for bed. Everything was as it normally is and we were enjoying our time as a family (bedtime is always a fun routine with the three of us). We are dogsitting Tashi (my mother's shih tzu) this weekend and the three animals had been especially wild that day torturing each other (in between bouts of sleeping on all the surfaces in our living room of course). Walt was getting his nightly bottle - a puzzle, dinner, movie & bottle of wine waiting for us - when we heard a sharp meow from downstairs. I looked over the railing to check it out, but seeing two of the three small creatures on the landing and Frances by himself downstairs I wondered what it could have been. I called out to Frank and he didn't respond, so I stayed upstairs and went into the second bedroom to work on our Christmas card while David had some father/son time with Walt. Ironically I was writing down all the things we were thankful for in 2012 when I hear a scuffle and David shouts at me to come take Walt. I come out to the landing and David is looking at Frank huddled in the corner while the other two examine him (or bother him?) and Walt is crying in his bed. I pick up Walter, continue to feed him, and David comes in and says that Frank is acting paralyzed in his back legs. My adrenaline spikes as Frances meows and meows and David doesn't say things are getting any better. They go into the second bedroom and shut the door. Walt is full but not yet sleepy, smiling at me so it's hard to do anything else, but we go to see what's up with Frank. He's under the bed and flopping around using only his front paws and crying out every time he does it.

I finally get Walt to sleep and we find a 24 hour vet to take Frances to. He's hard to handle when he's happy so it takes a towel and some biting to get him into the carrier with him in such pain. Luckily Dave's parents were able to come over on short notice so we both could go to the vet. We get there and meanwhile Frances is shredding the carrier and while the tech examines him Frances is biting the towel and freaking out and causes his mouth to bleed. No obvious fractures and his back feet are significantly colder than his front (I felt them; they were scary cold). Diagnosis: a clot from underlying heart disease has caused paralysis. Prognosis: most likely would never be able to walk again even with significant medical intervention and care and even after that his heart would get worse, throw more clots, and he could die any time.

End result: I wish Frances was meowing at me to go outside right now, or to get out of the shower, or to hurry up and feed him... I had him for 7 1/2 years and we loved each other a lot. Not everyone understood him, but he and I were close. He was a good cat and I've been writing down all the silly things I can remember about him (I did the same for Shogo last year). I'm sad. I thought we had many more years together.

Life is short. Life is not perfect. But if we love every day together then when that final goodbye comes it's missing a good friend not regretting missed opportunities.

Snippets

We have an evil dog neighbor. Our kitchen sink window looks directly to the side of our neighbor's house and their backyard. They have two windows facing us. In the closest window, the dog - some pointer breed - will sit there, framed by the white curtains, giving you the death stare and not moving. Those types of dogs are made for the death stare. Creepy.

Watching two and a half hours of Walking Dead the other night caused me great anxiety. I spent the rest of the evening looking at our supplies of canned goods in the pantry and wondering where we could store extra water.

A couple days ago it was a Babies R Us kind of day. I met my friend at the one in Perimeter and ended up running into my aunt there. And then my aunt ran into her sister-in-law.

We've encountered our first cold. Walt has no symptoms except congestion. But what a symptom! I'm constantly worried about his ability to breathe. Luckily we have bulb syringes, saline solution, a humidifier, and lots of love on hand to combat this. Yes he cries during our mucus extraction surgeries.

He slept 9 hours straight last night! Victory is ours!

Today we're going to take our holiday photos for our Christmas card... I can't believe it's already that time of year!

An extra hour at night means nothing to a baby

My son likes to collect lint in between his fingers. We have to clean it out daily. Today was a lot.

This weekend was a great weekend despite my brother going home to Belgium! Let's see... a visit from Dave's cousin just to hold the baby, baked salmon, church, yard work, sleep, movies, puzzles, my book, extra Halloween candy: all good things.

This week should be an interesting week. An important election on Tuesday and I'm wondering how the US/world will react to either result. However, I'm more excited about my expensive Catbird Pikkolo baby carrier arriving in time to take the baby to the polls with me. I'm not sure it's going to happen though. I guess I will have to come up with an alternative. I'm wondering if a screaming baby will help move me ahead in the line come Tuesday?